


In our fumbling perfection

by MemeKon, MemeKonOF (MemeKonYA)



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Awkwardness, First Kiss, Fluff, Kittens, Love Confessions, M/M, ToT: Chocolate Box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8376901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemeKon/pseuds/MemeKon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemeKonYA/pseuds/MemeKonOF
Summary: When Ren opens the door Takaya expects to be greeted with fidgeting, slightly flushed cheeks, and a flustered, half stuttered out welcome. What he definitely doesn’t expect is for Ren to be holding two squirming, tiny, furry things against his chest with one arm, and for another one to be making pitiful noises at his feet. “What are those?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sterlynsilverrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterlynsilverrose/gifts).



> Hope you like it, sterlynsilverrose!  
> Not beta'ed.  
> Crossposted to my main account because everyone should watch/read Oofuri.
> 
> (Takes place somewhere after Tajima's 5.)

When Ren opens the door Takaya expects to be greeted with fidgeting, slightly flushed cheeks, and a flustered, half stuttered out welcome. 

What he definitely doesn’t expect is for Ren to be holding two squirming, tiny, furry things against his chest with one arm, and for another one to be making pitiful noises at his feet. 

“What are those?”

Ren looks startled for a few seconds, but then the tiny thing at his feet makes another pitiful sound and stumbles all over itself trying to climb up Ren’s leg, and Ren’s attention is diverted to it, eyes big and soft and full of loving wonder and mouth set in a bright smile that has Takaya’s cheeks heating up and his heart beating weirdly loudly. Takaya’s eyes follow Ren as he lowers himself carefully to daintly pick the third furry thing up, and nestle it next to the other two.

Takaya makes an entirely accidental and mortifying noise; something weird and choked that has Ren’s eyes back on him, wide. 

“So-sorry!” He says then, and clumsily hip checks the door to open it wider for him, “I— I forgot that A— that  _ Takaya-kun _ was coming over.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Takaya says, trying to not be harsh about it, because it’s not Ren’s fault that he constantly apologizes for everything, it’s not, and Takaya needs to remember this if he wants Ren’s trust. 

And he wants it. 

Ren gives him a small, pleased shy smile in return, and Takaya walks in, chest tight and throat tingly. 

He stops almost immediately, though, half lowered to take his shoes off.

There are two other tiny, fluffy things right in the entry hall, nestled atop a pair of slippers. 

And then he hears a very clear, very loud  _ meow _ , and suddenly there’s a lot of answering noise from the  _ kittens _ in Ren’s arms as a sleek, black adult cat makes her way towards Ren, tail raised, paws thumping softly against the wooden floor. She absolutely ignores Takaya’s existence in favor of going to rub herself against Ren’s legs. The kittens on the slippers wake up and follow their mom, on wobbly legs, stumbling here and there.

“When did you get a cat?” Takaya asks then, eyes trailing Ren’s movements as the boy attempts to both hold all the kittens and crouch down to give attention to the older cat and the remaining kittens. It’s not working. It’s— it’s also way too endearing for Takaya to bear with, gut tense with fondness. 

He  goes through the motions of taking of his shoes distractedly.

“Do you need help?” He clears his throat after asking, face itching with the embarrassment of the awkward way his voice kind of broke a bit at the end. “With your cats?”

Ren looks up to him, then. Takaya is brought back to that day in his home some time ago: leg in a cast, uncomfortably hot and itchy; the disappointment of having broken his promise to Ren  bearing down on him, and his own frustration at  _ everything _ , at what had happened, at what he’d done in telling Ren not to shake his signs of, at— at everything. And yet all of that had faded to the background the moment Ren smiled at him, big and bright and uninhibited for the first time. 

And he feels like that all over again now, with Ren looking up at him with sheer joy, and nothing fearful underneath, nothing doubtful. It doesn’t even matter in that moment that Takaya doesn’t even know why he asked, that it was on impulse, that he’s not even that good with cats. He did something right, and that’s all that matters.

“Does— Does Takaya-kun like cats?” 

“Yeah, sure,” he replies, as he awkwardly takes two of the kittens Ren’s holding (the first two he’d been holding, one pitch black, and the other gray with darker stripes), so he can finally pet the other three that are clamoring for his attention. The little things look at him with glassy eyes and meow piteously as he tries to cradle them on his arm. He mutters under his breath, “as long as they’re not trying to claw my eyes out.” 

Ren looks at him questioningly, but Takaya just shakes his head. Ren smiles shyly again, and then kind of crawls towards the edge of the entry hall step to put the last kitten he’s holding there. He stays there and cranes his neck to softly call the other two over, and they wobble towards him. He praises them both and lifts them up too. The three kittens make their wobbly ways towards the living room, and Ren watches them go with figurative stars in his eyes.

Takaya watches  _ him _ , until the older cat decides to step all over his feet before following her three offspring. Takaya frowns at her, but she doesn’t even deign to look back at him. 

_ What’s that cat’s problem? _

“Yuu-kun said to to g-get started without him,” Ren says, as he moves the table for them.

Takaya hums, and surveys the place. It’s clean, and orderly. Ren’s place always is. Unlike Ren’s own room, which is always a mess of things thrown around, books and balls and his glove and other things that even though they must be important to Ren, he never actually gets around to tidying up. Takaya thinks of Ren’s room as loud. It reminds him of Ren on the mound, proud and stubborn, and refusing to give it up. Loud,  _ deafening _ , without uttering a word. 

“Do you want milk, Takaya-kun? Or— or juice?”

Takaya’s attention goes back to Ren, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet at the kitchen’s door, slightly flushed. 

“Milk,” he replies, and follows Ren inside. 

There’s some dishes in the sink, he notes. 

_ He had dinner. Good _ .

A little voice inside of him that sounds part like him, part like his father, and—strangely enough— part like coach Momoe, tells him that he should trust Ren more than he does. It’s not like he doesn’t, however. He just has this need to know that Ren’s properly taking care of himself. He just likes to check, to see for himself, because for some reason knowing that for certain makes him feel all that much better. 

… He probably should work on this too, he realizes. But he  _ has _ learned to stop drilling Ren about meals and to limit his questions about his parents and to know when he starts to get a little overbearing. That’s progress. That’s him doing better, right? Right.

Right.

Ren hums a little under his breath as he rummages through his cabinet looking for their cups. When he finds Takaya’s he makes a little triumphant sound, and carefully places it on the counter.  

Put next to each other Takaya notices that they’re a perfect match, probably from the same set, unlike Yuuichirou’s. 

He never set out to consciously do that he tells himself when his cheeks grow a little hot at that realization. He just— he just picked a cup. Grabbed the first one he saw. That’s it. 

He gets distracted from his musings by Ren suddenly standing up ramrod straight, eyes open wide and mouth open in a little o, his own cup almost sliding from his hands before he fumbles with it awkwardly and sets it down on the counter next to Takaya’s own, hands hovering over them both as if he expected the cups to tumble off the counter on their own.

“Ki-kittens,” he tells him, as if that on its own should make all the sense in the world (and maybe it would were he Yuuichirou, he thinks, a little bitter) when Takaya makes a slightly worried questioning sound at him. 

Takaya raises an eyebrow at him at the word, and Ren fiddles with his hands for a few seconds before he admits, words rushed and laden down with guilt:

“I haven’t fed them—  They must be hungry!”

“Don’t they have their mom to feed them?”

That gives Ren some pause. He blinks at Takaya a few times, and then goes red up to the roots of his hair as he nods quickly. 

“Right!” He squeaks once he stops nodding, evading Takaya’s eyes, and Takaya feels sort of shitty about causing him embarrassment, unintentionally or not, so he awkwardly turns around and glances around the living room while Ren goes back to getting them drinks.

He feels Ren’s presence next to him before he hears his shuffling and the soft clinking of the glasses. 

He waits for Ren to address him, body angled subtly towards him but eyes still roaming around the room, as if looking for something. 

“For Takaya-kun,” Ren says softly after a few seconds, and when Takaya looks at him he’s back to a small shy smile, his cheeks still slightly tinted red, but nothing out of the ordinary. He tries to give back a small smile of his own —trying not to push himself too much and end up looking unnatural and stiff, like he does when he practices in front of the mirror at home in the morning while he brushes his teeth and flushes in mortification with his mouth full of minty foam at his failed attempts to seem more approachable, but somehow wanting to put Ren at ease— and grabs the glass.

Their hands overlap on the narrow cup. Ren’s hands are warm, despite the cold seeping through the tumbler. 

Takaya’s touch lingers. When he looks up, Ren’s cheeks are ruddier than before, and his eyes are fixed on where their fingers are touching, a stillness in him that makes it look like he’s holding his breath. Takaya makes a humming noise, and Ren looks up. 

Takaya gets the air punched out of him by the look on Ren’s eyes, glossy and open, and full of something so warm and  _ weird _ , something Takaya can’t say he’s ever seen directed at  _ him _ .

Ren looks like he’s getting ready to say something, mouth forming words soundlessly like Takaya’s seen him do countless times to psych himself up and cheeks burning, eyes intense on his. 

Takaya  _ waits _ . He’s not a patient guy, and everyone who’s known him for a fraction of a second knows  _ that _ about him, but Ren coming into his life has done things to him. Things like making him want to do all these kinds of things, like learning to hold his tongue, and learning to stop yelling and getting frustrated at every single setback he experiences; like learning to let go, and learning to  _ trust _ . And now, apparently, learning to  _ wait _ . 

Oh shit. Better. Be better. Ren coming into his life has made him want to  _ be better _ , to become a better version of himself, as a catcher and as a person.

_ Wait _ , he thinks.  _ Wait, wait, wait. _ You can overanalyze this to death later, Takaya. 

“Ta-Takaya-kun— I—”

Takaya’s chest  _ throbs _ uncomfortably when Ren finally finds his voice. He nods slowly, prompting him to go on. 

He doesn’t know where this is going, doesn’t know what all of this is, has never known why Ren was so special from the beginning— only that’s a  _ lie _ , because he  _ knows _ , knows better than anyone what exactly makes Ren so special, what sets him apart from other pitchers, what sets him apart from other  _ people _ — but he doesn’t— this  _ thing _ inside him when Ren smiles, when Ren calls his name, when Ren trusts him above everyone else to have his best interests in mind even though Takaya knows he’s not even the most  _ qualified _ , when he can be so  _ selfish—  _

He tries to take a subtle breathe. Tries to clear his mind and stop thinking about how he’s never felt so out of control, and never felt so… juvenile, so dramatic and yet so attuned to the moment.

“I— ” Ren tries to go on, but seems to struggle finding his words. Takaya encouragingly squeezes Ren’s hand underneath his, as much as their position allows. 

Ren looks like he’s steeling himself, taking a deep, shaking breath, and Takaya’s overcome with that sense of pride he feels when Ren’s on the mound, achieving amazing things with their team, with him; and when he’s off it, always surpassing all of Takaya’s expectations, in one way or another. 

The moment gets shattered in a second, with the loud chorused meowing of three kittens wobbling towards them.

Takaya tries not to glare at them as Ren’s attention switches to them instantly, cooing softly as he goes to them with a last, apologetic glance towards him that gets him a go-ahead from Takaya, but his hand feels colder without Ren’s underneath his.

He sighs.

He’s learning to  _ wait _ . So he will wait.

  
  


He  _ does _ glare at the fully-grown cat sprawled next to their table, feeding only two of her offspring, eyes trained on him, bright and evil as her tail flicks lazily.

If cats could, this one would probably laugh at him.

  
  


Ren brings the kittens with him to their table, sits them all on his lap, and gives them a soft, brief talk about how they need to be good and quiet. It’s almost endearing enough to distract Takaya, but then his eyes land on Ren’s open notebooks and the barely legible scribbles over the margins. And the absolute lack of notes from that day. 

He sighs.

“So-sorry,” Ren tries covering his notes up.

“It’s fine,” Takaya says, and takes his stuff out of his bag. “I knew you were struggling with this class. It’s why I’m here. I know you’re doing your best.”

Ren’s face lights up like a Christmas tree at his words. Takaya hides his blushing face by looking for his own things. 

“Okay,” he starts after clearing his throat once he’s organized everything on the table, buying himself some extra seconds to calm his dramatic heart down. “We should start with last monday’s worksheet, and go from there.”

“ _ Yes! _ ” Ren agrees, a little too enthusiastic, and then he looks down guiltily at the kittens. “Yes!” He whispers then, and cranes his neck to look at Takaya’s worksheet until Takaya just rolls his eyes and leaves it between them, sliding a little closer to Ren, knees bumping. Ren stiffens at Takaya’s proximity at first, but then his body relaxes into the touch, as a smile spreads across his face, eyes crinkled while diverted shyly to his lap. 

Takaya can’t hold back a smile of his own.

  
  


They get two solid hours in, Takaya explaining concepts to Ren and overseeing him solving his worksheets, pointing out mistakes as kindly as he’s able to, praising Ren when he gets his exercises right on the first try— and trying to contain his own weird, overwhelming feelings over how brightly Ren responds to the praise, squirming excitedly in place and getting all that more determinate about getting his answers right, and calling him embarrassingly things like ‘an amazing teacher’ earnestly every now and then. 

Takaya decides to have them take a break when he notices Ren getting distracted by all the cats (the mother and its two remaining kittens having migrated from their spot near the table, to right against Ren’s thigh sometime between worksheet number two and worksheet number three). 

“So,” Takaya says as he sets his mechanical pencil down on his open notebook, straightening up and slowly trying to work out a slight crick on his neck. “Where did they come from?”

“Y-yard!” Ren tells him excitedly, as he softly trails one of his fingers down the side of one of the still sleeping kittens. “Boru used to— to show up all the time. And then she stopped. But yesterday I went to—” He stops there, and goes very still, casting a guilty sideways glance at Takaya.

“You went to pitch.” Takaya fills out for him, tense, harsh even to his own ears.

Ren flinches visibly, lower lip drawn between his teeth as he averts his gaze. 

Shit.

Takaya takes a deep breath as he drags one of his hands through his hair.

“It’s not that I don’t trust  _ you _ , Ren,” he says finally. They’ve already gone through this, before coach Momoe enlisted Toshiaki-san as Ren’s pitching coach, but Takaya feels like he needs to stress the point, feels like maybe Ren isn’t convinced. “I don’t want you to get injured as you go about adapting to your new form. I know Toshiaki-san thinks exceeding limits is needed sometimes. And I trust neither he nor coach Momoe will let you— let  _ any of us _ get hurt.” He stops there for a second and thinks carefully about his next words. Finally, he decides to go for honesty because it’s the best he can offer, “I wish you would trust  _ me _ .”   

Ren reacts to that, mouth agape for a few seconds, before he leans slightly into Takaya’s space.

“I do! I trust Ta-Takaya-kun!”

“I wish you would trust me when I tell you that having me or coach Momoe— or coach Toshiaki looking after your pitching practice is for the best.”

Ren nibbles on his lip for a few seconds after that, looking distressed. 

“I— I  _ do _ trust Takaya-kun,” he says after a minute or so of silence. “I just— want to pitch. And get— get better! And sometimes I get—” he struggles to find a word here, looking sideways and then down, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

Takaya waits for a few seconds, and when nothing else comes, offers:    
  
“Restless?”

Ren looks up at that and nods energetically. 

“Ye-yes! Restless! And I don’t— I don’t pitch at home on days we—” He makes a few gestures. “On days I p-pitch a lot at practice!”

Takaya sighs.

“Okay,” he says. Then he repeats it, lower. “Next time you feel like that, give me a call? Or text me?” He tries to compromise. “I’ll come over.”

“B-but— Takaya-kun’s house isn’t— isn’t close by.” 

Takaya blushes.

“ _ I’ll come over _ ,” he repeats. “So call me. I’d rather be here to look after you if you’re gonna pitch anyway. I’d tell Yuuichirou to do it in my place but—” 

_ But I don’t want to _ , a traitorous part of him supplies.

His neck grows hot as his blush probably spreads.

“—but I don’t trust he won’t indulge you and let you keep throwing however much you want. You’re way too alike that way.”

“Yuu-kun and— Yuu-kun and I?”

Ren seems somehow awed at the comparison. Takaya tramples down the part of him that finds it endearing because  _ now is really not the time _ .

“Yeah.” He confirms. Then he reaches out one of his hands and takes one of Ren’s, seeking his gaze. Once Ren’s hand (not as warm as it was before, but not cold either) has relaxed against his own, and his eyes have set themselves on Takaya, he says, “can you promise?”

“P-promise?” Ren repeats, high pitched. His hand twitches in Takaya’s hold.

“Promise that you will call and let me look out for you.” 

Ren’s hand twitches again, and this time Takaya sees a tiny shiver go through the rest of Ren’s body. His entire face is pink. 

“I— I promise.” 

“Thanks,” Takaya replies. 

He shifts his hold on Ren’s hand until it’s just their pinkies that are linked, without giving it much thought, just because he knows it’s what people do when promising each other things. When Ren gasps softly, however, he feels the intimacy of the gesture; feels the intimacy of their positions too, now kind of facing each other, close enough for their legs to brush together. 

Just like that, it’s like they’re put back in that same mood as a few hours back at the kitchen’s door, the air around them charged, everything too meaningful, too stark. 

Takaya means to let go of Ren’s hand, but Ren squeezes his own finger around Takaya’s. 

“Takaya-kun, I—”

Ren’s phone beeps, startling Ren into silence.

Ren exhales a soft puff of air and checks his phone one-handed, still holding onto Takaya’s hand. It feels a little silly, but Takaya doesn’t feeling like letting go of Ren after Ren has made it clear that he wants this contact for some reason. 

“It’s Yuu-kun,” Ren says when he’s done with his phone. “He says— he says he can’t come af-after all. His mom asked him to— to help her with something.”

“Oh, okay.”

Frankly, he’d forgotten Yuuichirou was meant to be here at all, he thinks guiltily.  

“I really like Takaya-kun,” Ren blurts out suddenly, his eyes screwed shut.

Takaya’s breath hitches.

He’s said things like this before, he’s said— he doesn’t know— he doesn’t  _ mean _ — 

“I r-really, really like Takaya-kun,” Ren goes on, his hand shaking a little as his eyes open and he looks up at Takaya through his lashes, head slightly bowed.  

—Maybe he _ does _ . Maybe he means it in _ that exact way _ .

He feels the seconds tick between them, but feels like he can’t find any words to say, nothing appropriate at all comes up to him; it’s like words have stopped existing for him, only sounds like ‘huh?’ and ‘oh’ inhabiting his brain. 

Ren’s eyes lower, but not before he can see them go glossy, probably welling up with tears. 

“I—  too— really,” he blurts out then, too loud in the surrounding silence, words rushed and voice slightly cracking at the end. He cringes at the situation, at his words, at himself.  _ I too really? _

“Really?”

Ren’s looking at him again, cheeks a little wet, a couple of tears still clinging to his lower lashes. Takaya wants to wipe them, feels his gut churn uncomfortably at the thought of making Ren cry over  _ this _ , of all things.

Takaya takes a deep, steadying breath, and finally nods, meeting Ren’s eyes.

Ren’s whole face brightens up, eyes going wide and mouth dropping open in pleased surprise. In that moment, Takaya lov— likes him. Really, really likes him, and the sincerity and ease with which he can just— do that. Just show what he feels right on his face for the whole world to see.

Ren lets go of his hand, and Takaya frowns at that for a second, before Ren’s touching him again, this time leaning into his space and bringing both hands up to his cheeks, sort of squishing his face. 

“I really, really like Takaya-kun,” Ren announces again.    
  
“Me too,” Takaya replies, words distorted by Ren’s hold on his face. 

Ren  _ beams _ . Like the sun. 

“I really, really,  _ really _ like Takaya-kun. A lot.”

Takaya swallows, feeling himself burning from the neck up, skin itchy and tight, heart beating wildly.

“Me— me too,” he repeats. 

Ren lunges towards him, a little uncoordinated and a little too forceful, lips landing on his unintentionally pursed ones. The touch is innocent and light, and absolutely wrecking. It makes his stomach drop like someone attempting to steal home plate.

He can hear the kittens meowing next to them, having been displaced when Ren moved, but he couldn’t care less about their distress at losing their pillow right now.

He awkwardly puts one of his hands on top of one of Ren’s, and tries to lean into the kiss, feel a little more, be somehow closer than he already is. 

Ren gasps into the kiss and Takaya’s lips open up too instinctively, and suddenly it feels a little less innocent, a little hotter, messier, clumsy. It’s still mind shattering and new, and Takaya feels like everything about it— from Ren’s teeth scraping a little too much against his lower lip, and their noses bumping awkwardly, and Ren finally noticing that he’s still squishing Takaya’s face and making a tiny choked sound before letting go of him, knocking Takaya’s hand off accidentally— is just like them. 

He’s startled into a yelp when Boru jumps into his lap, claws digging into his legs mercilessly. He breaks the kiss to glare at the cat, but it only curls up and looks at him as though it knows it’s winning whatever war they’re fighting.

“She li-likes you,” Ren coos, voice a little hoarse from their kissing. 

Takaya bites down on a sarcastic  _ yeah, right _ and just makes noncommittal sound instead, bringing down a hand to pet the cat. It looks at him like it can’t quite believe his nerve, so he goes on petting it, smiling down at it.

Ren coos again, and when Takaya looks up at him again, he’s gathered all the remaining kittens into his lap.

“So you found…  _ Boru _ on your yard,” he raises an eyebrow at the name.

“Yes! With the kittens,” Ren says. “On my— on my mound!”

Takaya hums. Ren plays with one of the kittens for a few seconds, rubbing underneath its chin and cooing when it tries to grab his finger. 

Takaya reaches out a hand to rub the top of another of the kittens’ head, and after a while, when it has dropped asleep, he subtly moves his hand to rest on top of Ren’s knee.

Ren looks up at him, and smiles, cheeks pink and eyes bright and crinkled.

Takaya’s heart beats dramatically inside his chest and his gut burns, and Boru kneads his leg with claws out.

He smiles back.

  
  


“Mom says I can’t— can’t keep them all,” Ren tells him over the phone that night, sounding too heartbroken for a fifteen year old who’s been told that no, he really cannot keep six cats. 

“That’s… that’s rough,” Takaya replies, trying to sound supportive.

“Yuu-kun said he’s— he’s keeping one,” Ren tells him then, and then adds, softly, “do you want one Takaya-kun?”

Takaya looks down at his legs, tiny pinpricks of pierced and raised skin on his thighs.

He hears high pitched meowing through the receiver, and Ren talking softly to one of the kittens, fond and loving.

“... I’ll ask mom.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [ Come hang out with me on tumblr! ](http://memekon.tumblr.com)


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